


The Hawke Family

by Tiili97



Category: Dragon Age 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Because I can, Family of Choice, Fluff, Hide and Seek, M/M, NO DEATHS IN MY FLUFF FIC NO SIR, Nonbinary Hawke - Freeform, Other, Ragtag Bunch of Misfits, Snuggling, Ultimate no deaths au, Very pre-relationship Fenders, Winter exchange for the skype group, literally nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiili97/pseuds/Tiili97
Summary: In which Leandra adopts a bunch of new kids, Hawke loves their family very much, Aveline takes games much too seriously, and Anders and Fenris are in love although they do not know it (yet). A gift for Kim from the skype group. Go look at their work at dragonphage.tumblr.com, it's cute and awesome. Happy holidays!





	

“Hawke! Do you want to play hide and seek?” Merrill’s bubbly excitement awoke Hawke from a light doze, blinking in the light while Merrill ran off to poke at Varric, who was snoozing in an armchair a bit further into the library. She made an impatient noise when she realized Hawke was still sitting down.

“Come on, sleepyhead, get up! Go find the others!” There was a determined glint in her eyes: Hawke knew already it would be impossible to make her change her mind. Oh well. The armchair and cozy fire would just have to wait. 

Soon, they had rounded up everyone interested. Anders had been pulled from the kitchen, where he had been helping Orana and Leandra to prepare tomorrow’s Satinalia meal. Fenris had been gathered from the library by Aveline, who was just as unabashedly intense about even vaguely competitive games as always. Varric had bowed out, claiming he had to “write some important papers”. Hawke was pretty sure he just wanted to woo Leandra into letting him taste-test the wines. Isabela was lounging on Bethany, who was entirely too okay with that in Hawke’s opinion. Carver was suspiciously missing. Merrill lead the group, as excited as before. Hawke couldn’t help but smile – her excitement was infectious. 

Before Hawke knew it, the game was on. Deciding who would count had been a debacle in and of itself: Aveline had volunteered, at first, but it had only taken one sanguine reminder from Varric about the last time they had arranged an arm wrestling contest at the Hanged Man. After a moment of silence for the fallen, it had been unanimously decided that Hawke would be the one to count. The rules were simple: No magic, No hiding outside, and Anders’ clinic did NOT count as part of the mansion, no matter how convenient it was.

They quickly went through the at this point holy pre-counting ritual of the Hawke family – three spins, one quick twirl, then one spin the other way. Hawke started counting loudly, immediately hearing the sound of rushing feet and something that sounded suspiciously like someone being shoved into a bookcase. Judging from the cursing and the gleeful cackling, it was Fenris and Isabela. Hawke smiled. It was… nice, this situation. After the deep roads and the dragons and everything, finally being able to move into the mansion had been… strange. After living on the run for pretty much ever, often having to share a room with one or both of the twins, suddenly having so much empty space had been very disconcerting. It hadn’t stayed empty for long, luckily. Especially on Satinalia, a holiday for family and friends, it was obvious how much the Hawke family had grown over the last few years. 

“Three… two… one! Ready or not, here I come!” Listening in the sudden silence, Hawke decided to search the lower floor first. A quick glance around the main hall gave nothing until a loud, happy bark could be heard from one of the hallways. Hawke followed the sound of Korven’s excited yapping until the dog was in sight, jumping at one of the tall statues that stood in a niche in the wall. A statue that was currently making very familiar shushing noises.

“Oh Anders, I seeeeee yoouuuuu” Hawke called out gleefully. There was silence for a second, before a loud groan could be heard and Anders shimmied out from behind the statue. (through a space that no grown man should be able to fit through; Hawke made a mental note to make sure Anders got an extra large serving at dinner later, and leftovers sent with him to the clinic.)

“That mutt of yours gave me away! It’s not fair!” Anders grumped, valiantly ignoring the dog slobber currently adorning his robes. 

Hawke snorted.  
“Maybe if that mangy cat of yours stopped shedding so much, he wouldn’t be as interested in you.” 

Anders made a melodramatic gasp, eyes going huge in mock distress: this argument had been had many times before, and was now done with a certain amount of fondness and theatrics.  
“I’ve never! How dare you insult Serah Purrceval like that! The nerve!” 

Hawke just chuckled and patted Anders on the shoulder.  
“I think I saw Mother preparing some of those salty caramel things you like; go see if you can beg some off her with those puppy eyes of yours.” Anders immediately lit up and bolted for the kitchen, Korven following behind. Hawke looked fondly after him: Anders had been the first to move into the mansion after a brush with the Templars that was way too close for comfort – even Fenris had looked shaken after they had intercepted them halfway through Darktown and found out exactly what was in the bags they had carried on the way to the clinic. Even after that Anders had been unsure about going, arguing that he had to be near his patients. When even the presence of a secret path from the mansion down to Darktown wouldn’t sway him, Hawke had been forced to resort to bribing to get the man out of there.

And so Serah Purrceval had been added to the household, to Anders great joy and everyone else’s great despair. The cat was unfriendly to everyone but Anders and left hairballs in the most unfortunate places, but it lit a light in Anders’ eyes that had been out for entirely too long.  
Hawke continued through the hallway and out to the dining room, humming merrily while giving the hall an overview. Wait a second… was that… something glowing behind the suspiciously bumped drapery?  
Or rather, someone. Hawke quickly walked up to the deep red drapes and pulled them apart with a flourish, giving a cheeky grin in response to the annoyed elf behind it.  
“Why hello there, Fenris. Fancy meeting you here!” 

Fenris made a face before dusting himself off and retrieving his latest read: an in-depth analysis of the history of the Blights, from the looks of it.

“Have you found the apost – Anders, yet? I have some questions about the Grey Wardens.” Hawke waved in the vague direction of the kitchen. Fenris nodded once and turned to walk away, curt as always. 

Fenris had refused Hawke’s offer of housing, at first: Something about not wanting to share a house with a mage, with a pointed sneer in Anders’ direction.

Hawke figured there were also some other reasons, reasons that were less reason and more concepts like freedom and independence that Fenris was still trying to come to terms with, still trying to figure out how they related to him.

Despite this, Fenris had started showing up more and more after Hawke’s offer to teach him to read, and even more after Wicked Grace night had been moved to the estate after that… incident… at the Hanged Man. Hawke decided that if there was a specific point where Fenris had officially moved in, it must have been when Hawke woke up in the middle of the night from strange sounds, only to find Fenris making a midnight snack in the kitchen with his eyes glued to his latest upgrade in books – a children’s history book on the Tevinter Empire. It was less the event in itself, and more the fact that Hawke’s reaction had been to shrug and return to bed, thinking about what book Fenris could be interested in reading next. He had certainly upgraded since then. 

Hawke smiled after him before turning to continue searching, before a noise from above stopped those thoughts: Hawke looked up, trepidation quickly exchanged for fondness.  
“Isabela, how did you manage to get up to the rafters in the sixty seconds I was counting?” Isabela laughed, head thrown back and leaning in a way that almost gave Hawke a heart attack. 

She made a grand sweeping gesture.  
“A true artist never reveals her secrets, my dear Hawke.” She stood up on the wooden post, walking along it as casually as a hightown lady down a shopping lane, before taking a leap and landing securely on one of the high closets that lined the room before jumping the last bit down to the floor. She sauntered over to Hawke before sitting down on the dining room table, a look of mock thoughtfulness on her face.  
“You know, I’ve always wondered… couldn’t he just do the glowy thing and hide in the walls?” There was a hint of real curiosity in her question, and Hawke tried to consider it seriously for a second before the mental image prompted an undignified giggle.

“Imagine his face – “ Hawke tried to imitate Fenris’ perpetual frown through the giggles, to Isabela’s great amusement as she joined in the laughter. Hawke had barely recuperated before continuing to talk.  
“You’ll have to ask him, please do, I need to know his reaction.”

Isabela made a face.  
“Why do I have to ask him?”

“He doesn’t do the, you know – “ Hawke wiggled the fingers on one hand, “ bad fisting threat on you, not after you made that awful joke about it – “ 

This prompted more laughter from Isabela at the memory, but she nodded all the same.  
“You still have to find the others, right? Wouldn’t want to leave them hanging.” 

Hawke nodded, smiling widely before remembering who was still out there.  
“Oh my god, I’ll never find Aveline.” Hawke groaned, head hanging.

Isabela smiled knowingly and shook her head. Oh. She knew. The bastard. 

Hawke looked at her beseechingly, eyes wide and lips wobbling just the tiniest bit.  
“Pleaseee, you beautiful, brave, amazing woman, please give me a hint?” Isabela looked thoughtful for a moment. Just as she opened her mouth, a distant coughing noise could be heard in the sudden silence.

Isabela nodded.  
“I think that’s all the help you’re getting.” She flashed Hawke a sweet smile before walking out the door. Hawke knew chasing after her would give no results: She knew the house better than anyone except maybe Leandra. 

Isabela did not live with them as much as they all lived with Isabela. Hawke couldn’t really remember a time when she hadn’t been there – in fact, she had been found sleeping in the rafters less than a week after the Hawke family moved in, and at that point they were all just relieved to know that the weird noises that could be heard at night wasn’t ghosts but in fact Isabela’s snoring.  
She may even have lived there before they came around, judging by the amount of graffiti that could be found in the strangest places. (Hawke had not known there was that many words for the female genitalia, nor exactly how many shades of red Fenris could turn when tricked into reading them out loud.)

Nevertheless, her knowledge of the house made it impossible to find her when she didn’t want to be found. Like when she was torturing a good, mostly innocent, debatably law-abiding citizen of Kirkwall by withholding important seeking information.

Hawke huffed and got up from the table. Realizing that the bottom floor was now effectively searched through, Hawke decided to ascend the stairs up to the second floor, which was smaller in size but with several more rooms. After a quick headcount Merrill, Varric and Aveline were the only ones left in the game. Hawke started methodically checking out every room that wasn’t occupied by someone, going back and forth along the broad hallway. It wasn’t until the second round that the first muffled sounds of laughter could be heard; Hawke ignored them at first, before realizing on the fourth time passing by a certain closet that the giggling originated from there.  
Well. That could really only be one person. 

Hawke smiled widely before stepping away from the closet and walking loudly towards the other end of the corridor, turning, and tiptoeing silently back towards the closet. Another careful step, and… BAM! The doors were pulled open to the sound of a delighted shriek and an armful of flailing Merrill.  
“You found me! How did you find me? That was the best hiding place!” Still giggling, she allowed Hawke to lift her up and kiss her lightly on the forehead before pulling away.  
“Come on, what gave me away? Oh, it was the mat, wasn’t it? I always read in those mystery novels you have about people hiding in cupboards and the only clue is that the mat is all folded, because they ran, right? so I made sure to not run, but there must have been something and - “ 

Hawke kissed her again, on the lips this time, because it was definitely the easiest and most pleasant way to stop her ramblings.  
“You were giggling like mad, darling. I heard where you were. If it’s any consolation, you’re the third last to be found.” 

This made Merrill grin even wider, almost jumping with excitement.  
“Oooh, really? who’s left? wait, wait, let me guess, it’s Aveline, right? and Carver?” 

Hawke frowned slightly.  
“is Carver playing too? damn, I didn’t even know he was here!” the frown was soon replaced with a determined look. This was serious business now. Carver had always been the best at hide and seek, and Hawke would not, nay, could not let him win this time too.  
“Sorry, Merrill, but I have to go find the last ones. I’m pretty sure the other are in the kitchen, and there is a possibility Anders haven’t eaten all of the salty caramel thingies.” 

Merrill gasped.  
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” She leaned up for another short kiss before taking off, leaving Hawke with a slightly dumbstruck look and a wide smile.

Merrill was the only one that had actually accepted Hawke’s offer of living together up front. Whether that was because she was tired of life in the alienage, torn up about what had happened to the dalish, or simply on the same wave of post-orgasmic bliss as Hawke had been while making the offer (not that it had been insincere - merely unplanned) was not entirely clear. She was clearly enjoying it, however, if the handprints on the chandelier or the multitude of sweets that now took up a large part of the kitchen (“Hawke. Look at this piece of candy. It looks like a tiny rainbow. Hawke. I need it.”) was anything to go by. It made Hawke happy to see her fitting in so well, despite everything. 

Hawke stood still for a moment, pondering on where to go next. Bethany could be anywhere – she enjoyed the game, and enjoyed beating Hawke even more. Carver, the little shit, had probably found some secret passage or room - he was stubborn enough to find them and competitive enough to actually use them. Aveline… Hawke didn’t even want to think about Aveline. She took these kinds of things way too seriously, honestly. 

In short, they could all be anywhere. Hawke thought about calling the game off, but quickly dismissed the idea. This wasn’t just a game of hide and seek anymore; this was a contest of honor, of intelligence, of…  
of who was the most stubborn of the Hawke siblings. As always.

Hawke started slowly moving along the corridor, listening intently for any sound. It was only thanks to this concentration that the noise could be heard – a subtle wooshing, like air moving over a quiet pond. Attention drawn, Hawke could now see the slight discoloration to the very air in the open door leading to the balcony.

Hawke knew what it meant.  
“Bethany! That’s cheating!” Hawke exclaimed, lunging towards the cloaked mage. Bethany tried to evade, but soon found herself caught between the wall and Hawke’s hand clamped around her arm. With a pop, the magic dispelled, and a stone-faced Bethany came into view.  
Hawke was having none of it.  
“Bethany, I can’t believe you cheated!” A pause. “Actually, I totally can. You’re caught now, anyway.” 

Bethany seemed to deflate a little at that.  
“It’s no fair with you, Hawke. You know all of our tricks! Carver was so proud of the library one, too… wait, fuck.” She tried to backtrack, noticing the glee on her sibling's face, but Hawke had heard all that was needed. With a gleeful cackle, Hawke set off, leaving Bethany to her devices.

Finally, a proper lead! Hawke set off towards the library. It was a quite large room covering both stories, with room enough for the towering bookshelves filled to the brim with all kinds of books from Hawke’s parents and grandparents - of course, with some recent additions, like Anders’ tomes on healing or Varric’s storybooks. Right in front of the small fireplace was a veritable pile of them - Hawke smiled briefly at the memory of long days and evenings spent here with Fenris, writing and reading and talking until Hawke deemed his writing acceptable and his reading speed decent, at which point Fenris had started spending time there on his own, reading anything he found interesting.  
Now, however, the hunt was on. Hawke started looking around the room. The problem was, of course, that there was no real idea of what to look for: The library had a straight-forwards layout, and a quick check showed nothing. That would be below Carver’s dignity. A hidden room, perhaps? The problem with those was that they were usually, well, hidden. Hawke took a deep breath. Okay. What would Carver do?

Carver… Carver would run here as fast as he could and get into his pre-determined hiding place before anyone could realize exactly where he was.  
And when Carver was in a hurry, he got careless. Hawke looked over the room again, now noticing the overturned book piles seemingly pointing towards the left corner of the room, where a painting hung slightly askew. With a victorious grin, Hawke sidled up closer to the bookshelf in question - quietly, of course, as to not give it away to Carver - and started carefully inspecting each nook and cranny. Not here.... no… no… was that a book on the complete breeding history of the royal Mabari dogs? why was it here? The books related to animals was on the other side of…  
Oh. Of course.  
Very carefully, Hawke grasped the leather bound cover and pulled the book out. A loud grinding sound and some very interesting curses later, Carver stood in all his pouting glory in a small niche behind where the shelf had once been.  
“♪Hellooo, dear brother♪” Hawke sing-songed, grinning victoriously as Carvers pout increased in strength. “It is terribly impolite to join a game without telling everyone, you know. One might think you didn’t want to play fair ~" 

Carver scoffed at this, only looking slightly guilty as he elbowed his way out from the niche.  
“Well, I bet I’m the last one you found, right?”

“Yes… wait, no, Aveline’s still out there somewhere.” 

Carver rolled his eyes.  
“She doesn’t count.” 

Hawke shrugged, conceding the point. Trying to find Aveline would be more or less hopeless, now. All the commotion would only have her more defensive. Hawke remembered with a shudder last time they’d all played hide and seek: Aveline had hidden under the floorboards in one of the hallways, and they had only found her a day later when Orana had poured water over the floor to scrub it. The poor girl had never really recovered from the shock of a fully armed soldier bursting spluttering and coughing from beneath the ground. Hawke shuddered. No, she had learnt her lesson after that. She’d come out by nightfall, at the latest.  
…  
probably. 

Aveline didn’t actually live in the mansion. Sure, she spent most of the time there, and had dinner with them often, and had a designated room for her and Donnic whenever they slept over...  
Okay, so maybe she lived in the mansion a little. But she did have a house of her own, together with her husband. It was just… right next to the Hawke mansion, so that “someone could keep an eye on them” as she put it. No one knew exactly who had taken a sledgehammer to the garden wall between the two houses, except that everyone blamed Hawke and Hawke blamed everyone else. It did make it easier to go between the two houses, however, so it was all good in the end. (Hawke was still sure Aveline had done it.)  
The two siblings made their way downstairs, following the noise and the sweet smell of a baking pie to the kitchen. When they entered the large room, Hawke had to stop for a moment to take in the scene. 

The kitchen had always held a special place in Hawke’s heart. It was comfortable, warm, and large enough to have casual family dinners in. the counters were filled with every kind of sweets imaginable, bought by Merrill because ”they looked pretty”, mixed up with the healthy kind of food Aveline favored. Isabela sat perched on the table, munching on an apple while she listened to Varric’s latest scheme, occasionally stealing a swig of whiskey from his bottle. Varric himself was scribbling away in his journal, now and then casting vaguely disbelieving looks across the room and taking a drink from the bottle that was now noticeably more empty than when Hawke had seen it last.  
Curious, Hawke followed Varric’s gaze across the kitchen towards the counter underneath one of the large windows, the last rays of the evening sun illuminating a most peculiar scene. 

Anders and Fenris were, predictably, arguing; luckily, lately their arguments had tapered off from the loud, door-banging table-flipping kind (and boy, hadn’t that been fun to explain to Corf) and instead they were sitting on the counter, intensely involved in discussing, from what Hawke could understand, the relative importance of the Grey Wardens and the role magic had in stopping the last Blight.  
The topic wasn’t what interested Hawke, however: It was the deceptively casual way Anders hand rested against Fenris arm, a very faint glow of magic pulsating through his hands.  
The two men seemed completely oblivious to the event, as if this was something that had happened before. As if this sort of trust between them had always existed.

Hawke stared for a moment before turning and giving Varric a significant look. The dwarf just shrugged before returning to scribbling furiously into his journal once again. Hawke filed the observation away for later contemplation before looking out over the kitchen once again. Merrill had managed to steal the last few of the caramels from Anders and was now trying her best to talk while her mouth was effectively glued shut by the sticky substance, all while holding a bowl for Orana as she baked out one of the pies for tomorrow’s dinner. Hawke smirked - it was an old favorite trick of Leandra’s, using the addictively tasty sweets of hers to get Hawke and the twins to shut up for a while.

Leandra looked up from where she was checking on some cookies in the oven, smiling widely.  
“Oh Carver, there you are! I guess the secret compartment didn’t work out as well as you had hoped?” 

Carver shook his head as Hawke processed that information before turning to Carver with a theatralic gasp.  
“You! You asked mother for help? That’s cheating!” 

Carver crossed his arms defensively.  
“Nu-uh! We’ve never agreed on that!” Bethany made an agreeing noise, stepping up beside her brother to present a united front. 

Hawke responded with a mock-hurt gasp.  
“And you! Breaking our sacred no-magic rule! The treachery!” The twins looked at each other, shrugged, and grinned identical grins. Hawke wailed dramatically. “But it’s not fair! Mother, how could you allow this to happen?” 

Leandra giggled behind her hand before making a tutting noise.  
“If Carver is the only one clever enough to come ask me about the hiding places of this house, seeing as I know it best, then I hardly think that’s unfair. And Bethany was simply… practicing. ” 

At this, Hawke cried out in fake anguish, stumbling backwards to lean against the wall.  
“Have my entire family turned against me? Oh, cruel world! Betrayed by my own kin!” muffled laughter was the only response to the outburst, the entire kitchen now looking at their antics. Hawke grinned. Leandra had been a bit hesitant towards all the different people living in the house - in her house - but had soon warmed up at the prospect of having the house full of people and life again, something Hawke knew she had been missing. The fact that all of them, even Isabela and Fenris, treated her with great respect from the very beginning had further endeared them to her, to the point where Hawke was pretty sure she considered herself their surrogate mother. She was a lot happier now, either way, and that was the most important part. 

After she had stopped laughing, Leandra pulled out a basket filled with apples, fresh chestnuts, and even a small bag of the small fluffy Orlesian candies she knew Hawke was fond of.  
“I am eternally sorry at having broken your trust, dear child. Might this serve as appeasement?” She waggled it temptingly as Hawke continued to pout, both barely holding back their laughter. In the end, Hawke sighed and held out a hand of the basket.  
“It will do.” 

No one wanted to miss out on Hawke’s famous roasted chestnuts, and so they all made their way out to the main hall, where the largest fireplace was located. As the group was dispatched to find as many blankets and pillows as they could possibly carry - Anders and Fenris sticking close together, Hawke noted with some joy - Merrill and Hawke stayed to get the fire started. Or, more accurately, Hawke cleaned out the ash and built the setting for it while Merrill went through the basket with some glee before providing the spark to set it aflame with a flick of her wrist. 

However, as soon as the flame had touched the kindling, a familiar yelp could be heard from somewhere nearby. 

Hawke immediately perked up.  
“Aveline? Is that you?” only stubborn silence met the question. Hawke looked around the room slowly. Where could she be? Especially with that reaction the small flame?  
Unless…  
Hawke quickly reached in and beat out the small fire, earning a somewhat disgruntled “hey!” from Merrill, before turning and looking up the chimneystack.  
A very angry-looking Aveline glared back. 

Hawke almost hit the top of the fireplace before quickly pulling out and whooping loudly.  
“I found her! I found Aveline!” A series of distant cheers could be heard from the distant corners of the house, and when Aveline had finally managed to struggle her way out of the narrow chimney, the whole group was gathered again, laden with pillows and blankets (and in Fenris case, books) and all struggling not to laugh as Aveline tried and failed to look dignified as Hawke picked pieces of coal out of her hair. Merrill had gone of to fetch some new clothes for Aveline, as the ones she was currently wearing were beyond repair, but not before re-igniting the fire now that the chimney was cleared.

When everyone had stopped making terrible puns about chimneys and birds and divided the pillows somewhat evenly, the fire was positively roaring. Hawke looked up from where Carver was trying and failing to teach Isabela how to properly roast a chestnut without burning herself, and couldn’t help but smile at the picture they all made.

Merrill had taken up post right in front of the single armchair where Leandra sat, babbling happily about what she had seen in Lowtown earlier that day while Leandra hummed in all the right places while distractedly re-braiding Merrill’s hair. 

Bethany was sitting with Orana, the two women giggling at something Orana had just said. It was hard to get Orana to relax, but Bethany always managed somehow. Varric sat in the outskirts of the group, polishing Bianca and humming a familiar but incomprehensible tune, only breaking to make a comment on any of the murmured conversations. 

Fenris and Anders had ended up together, again - sure, they had grumbled about it, but it seemed more half-hearted than anything. Fenris was curled up over a book, reading intently in the light from the fire, while Anders was petting Serah Purrceval, occasionally making cooing noises at the tabby. Hawke was certain their arms were still touching. 

Aveline sat in the very middle of the group, roasting an apple and chatting amicably with Carver who had now given up on Isabela, instead petting Korven. The dog lay in a blissed-out heap, occasionally kicking his legs when Carver scratched a particularly good spot.

Isabela herself had also abandoned her chestnut, instead flopping down in the middle of the group to the mixed sound of delighted laughter and yelps of pain. Soon enough, that settled down too, and as the quiet chatter died down at the same rate as the embers, Hawke felt a deep sense of contentment.

It was… peaceful. Less than a year ago, Hawke would never have imagined this - but now it seemed the only right way to be, every one of them together like this. Sure, there were still problems, both personal and not - the Qunari had yet to leave, and tension was rising through all of Kirkwall.  
On the more personal level, Hawke knew there was still the issue of Fenris former master, not to mention Bartrand that was still on the loose somewhere. But right now, none of that mattered. They had surely deserved this one night of peace.  
Hawke smiled and snuggled up closer to Merrill, who was still murmuring quietly in her sleep. 

Kirkwall could take care of itself for a few more hours.

**Author's Note:**

> PS : "korven" means "the sausage". In Swedish. It's what I always name my mabari.


End file.
